man is there that would not have desired to wed Lily who knew her?  Once we were dear friends, Geoffrey and I, but when we ripened towards manhood, our love of Lily came between us, and we grew more and more apart.  It is a common case enough.  Well, as it chanced he failed, so why should I think unkindly of him?  Let me rather remember the affection of our childhood and forget the rest.  God rest his soul.

Mary, my sister, who after Lily Bozard was now the fairest maiden in the country side, wept much at my going.  There was but a year between us, and we loved each other dearly, for no such shadow of jealousy had fallen on our affection.  I comforted her as well as I was able, and telling her all that had passed between me and Lily, I prayed her to stand my friend and Lily’s, should it ever be in her power to do so.  This Mary promised to do readily enough, and though she did not give the reason, I could see that she thought it possible that she might be able to help us.  As I have said, Lily had a brother, a young man of some promise, who at this time was away at college, and he and my sister Mary had a strong fancy for each other, that might or might not ripen into something closer.  So we kissed and bade farewell with tears.

And after that my father and I rode away.  But when we had passed down Pirnhow Street, and mounted the little hill beyond Waingford Mills to the left of Bungay town, I halted my horse, and looked back upon the pleasant valley of the Waveney where I was born, and my heart grew full to bursting.  Had I known all that must befall me, before my eyes beheld that scene again, I think indeed that it would have burst.  But God, who in his wisdom has laid many a burden upon the backs of men, has saved them from this; for had we foreknowledge of the future, I think that of our own will but few of us would live to see it.  So I cast one long last look towards the distant mass of oaks that marked the spot where Lily lived, and rode on.

On the following day I embarked on board the ‘Adventuress’ and we sailed.  Before I left, my father’s heart softened much towards me, for he remembered that I was my mother’s best beloved, and feared also lest we should meet no more.  So much did it soften indeed, that at the last hour he changed his mind and wished to hold me back from going.  But having put my hand to the plough and suffered all the bitterness of farewell, I would not return to be mocked by my brother and my neighbours.  ‘You speak too late, father,’ I said.  ’You desired me to go to work this vengeance and stirred me to it with many bitter words, and now I would go if I knew that I must die within a week, for such oaths cannot be lightly broken, and till mine is fulfilled the curse rests on me.’

‘So be it, son,’ he answered with a sigh.  ’Your mother’s cruel death maddened me and I said what I may live to be sorry for, though at the best I shall not live long, for my heart is broken.  Perhaps I should have remembered that vengeance is in the hand of the Lord, who wreaks it at His own time and without our help.  Do not think unkindly of me, my boy, if we should chance to meet no more, for I love you, and it was but the deeper love that I bore to your mother which made me deal harshly with you.’